Catching Butterflies
by Love's Labour's Won
Summary: …No one is happy forever, but misery is constant. I learned this long ago… A/N: Akito from about 8 to 13. NOT for the easily depressed; has some very sweet moments. Maybe a little Akito/Shigure, but not the main focus. Please read and review; it's my 1st!
1. Prologue: Akira

Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket or any of the characters and likenesses thereof. This is a fan-made work created purely for entertainment, and I am not in any way affiliated with the author or publishers. In other words: It's not mine! I'm just having fun with it!

A/N: I am neither suicidal nor nearly as negative as the voice of this story, but come on, this IS Akito we're talking about; I am aiming for a certain amount of authenticity in the way she views the world. BTW, please REVIEW; I need feedback in order to improve my writing!

Me: Welcome, everyone!

Akito: Who exactly is going to see all of this?

Me: The entire world…or at least the fanfiction-reading portion of it!

Akito: Should I degrade the quality of my writing slightly so that this portion of the world, who are not notably intelligent, can understand it?

Me: No! You mustn't be so mean! You'll scare all the readers away!

Akito: I am not "mean." I am merely honest. By the way, your hair is the most unmanageably ugly rat's nest I have ever seen.

Me: Oh, wow, thanks, let's just make it personal, shall we?

Akito: How much longer must I suffer your inferior company?

Me: Until you finish this story.

Akito: Fine.

I am Akito. Hmm… that sounded rather stupid. Ah, well. It is not as though there is an infinite list of options for good openings anyway, unless you happen to be the sort of person who prefers to jump right into the "action" without any kind of preamble and confuse your poor readers to infinity. I hate Shigure's "novels" for that reason; let me know when he learns to put some kind of plot in among the "action sequences", but enough of that shameful topic.

What sort of person are you to read this, I wonder? I suppose you are rather stupid, since you are bothering about my life rather than pursuing your own. Yes… some stupid, ugly girl who scans thousands of mediocre scripts in hope of finding some glimmer of sweetness to brighten her otherwise mindless day. Wait, I am probably giving you too much credit. You probably do not know the difference between real sweetness and the usual sort of idiotic kitsch that is spread around much of the time on the Internet nowadays; the spelling and grammar in much of these "creations," which I would point out are mostly merely ideas stolen from the Sohma family biographer and are of the most extreme low quality. Yes, you are probably stupid, or perhaps just over-bored, but I rather think you idiotic. Ah, well. It is of no consequence. My family forced me to write down this atrocious story, and so you will probably think it is good, despite the fact that I seem rather challenged in the area of writing intelligently about emotional events in my life. However that may be, here is my tale… and all flames will be used to roast Yuki and Kyo for my supper.

Me: No, they will not!

Akito: Shut up! You are not worthy to speak to me, you ugly person!

Me: Whatever. Just get on with it, will you?

Akito: Anything to get rid of your annoying presence.

Me: I'm sorry; she must be PMS-ing.

Akito: I heard that. In any case, let us get on with it before I die of Author-chan's ugliness.

* * *

The world is composed, in the end, of darkness. Light, thus, is not an entity of itself, but an annoying lack of darkness, or, worse, an idle pretense. I understand this, because it is true. I have observed it my whole life. Darkness, in the end, is all there is. Anything else is but a façade, a bright, happy lie. In the end, no one is happy forever, but misery is constant. I learned this long ago…

Akira loved me. Every day, he played with me, talked to me, told me stories, took me out… Not once did he tell me, "Shut up, you stupid child. I don't care about that." Never did he strike me. Everything I said was a beautiful proverb; everything I did inspired his affection. My father was the most loving man I have ever known.

I remember one evening, when I was about five years of age. I was running through the garden, chasing an ever-elusive butterfly. It seemed that I could never catch it, no matter how I tried. Now on a flower, now flitting above the roof of the house, it seemed almost to taunt me with its unattainable beauty. I ran and ran, and finally it seemed to pause, hovering right next to the fish pond. I jumped at it, but it flitted away at the last second, and, unable to stop, I fell facedown into the pond with a smack. Water soaked my kimono, making it unbearably heavy, and I struggled and kicked as the leaden silk pulled me down, down, down into the green water. A golden koi looked me straight in the face, its black eyes unfathomable. I ceased struggling, caught up in the wonder of this contact. _Next time,_ I thought somewhat irrelevantly, _I think I want to be a fish_...

A strong hand grasped the back of my kimono, and I was pulled up out of the water and into my father's arms. I gasped for breath, spitting out water mixed with strings of algae and mucous as he dealt sharp blows to my back.

"Akito," he asked once he was sure I was alright, "what were you doing?"

"I was just… I wanted to catch the butterfly," I said, a sob coming up in my throat. My father hugged me tight, and the soft embrace broke something inside me; I began to bawl uncontrollably. He gently stroked my hair, quieting my sobs, and I stopped, breathing deeply to calm myself.

"Akito," Father said gently, "if you want to catch a butterfly, you mustn't chase it. You must make it come to you. All the running in the world," he continued, "will never have the same power of the sweetness of your heart… or of sugar water." He chuckled. "Come along," he said, pulling me to my feet. He led me to the kitchen, where he stirred sweet white powder in with some water. He took me back out into the garden and poured a small amount into my palm. "Now," he said, "hold still."

I was a perfect little statue, holding out my hand with its tiny pool of sweet liquid, and before long, I saw a flash of color out of the corner of my eye. With an effort, I kept still, looking only with my eyes and not turning my head. The butterfly hesitated, and I could almost see the wheels turning in its tiny mind. Finally, a decision was reached, and it flitted a little closer… and closer… and closer, until it rested in my palm, folding its wings vertically. I hardly dared to breathe, gazing upon this tiny marvel. The joints in its legs, the veins in its wings, the tiny proboscis that ever so tentatively reached out into the small pool I held in my palm—every little detail stood out in my mind with perfect clarity, and I sighed softly with the beauty of it all. The butterfly's wings stirred a little, but its little straw remained firmly planted in the sugar water. I looked up at my father, and he looked at me, and an understanding passed between us, some elemental understanding of truth and beauty, all condensed into that small moment. The butterfly sucked up the last of the sugar water, curling up its proboscis. It looked up into my eyes, and cheerily flitted away.

"You see," said Akira, "all you have to do is wait, and love, and be yourself… and the Jyuunishi will always be with you. They need you. You are their Master."

I smiled and snuggled close to him. "I love them so much," I sighed happily, "Shigure, and Hatori, and Ayame, and all the others who will come to me. I can't wait to meet them."

"Neither can I," my father smiled.

When Akira died, the butterflies lost their charm.

TBC…

* * *

Me: Please review! I am open to suggestions, but I do have a general idea of where this is going, so please don't be mad if I don't use your suggestion. More importantly, I want to know what to improve in my story, and feedback is the only way for me to learn! (BTW, although the way Akito said it wasn't nice, I really would rather not be flamed; it's very childish and just makes _you_ look bad. If you want to criticize my writing, do it nicely!) Thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter 1: Yuki

Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket or any of the characters and likenesses thereof. This is a fan-made work created purely for entertainment, and I am not in any way affiliated with the author or publishers. In other words: It's not mine! I'm just having fun with it!

A/N: Just to clarify, my story _does_ use honorifics; however, Akito does not due to the fact that she thinks she's the center of the universe and has little respect for anyone. Why then, you ask, does she call me Author-chan? A. That's a very informal title. B. She's a little scared of me!

Akito: I heard that, Author-chan. Shut up and--

Me: Moving on! Hello again, everybody!

Akito: What reason do I have for wanting to continue this again?

Me: Remember, you get to have a break from me when we're done!

Akito: Just a break? I didn't agree to that, you little freak! throws vase

Me: dodges Never mind her, on with the show!

* * *

"Akito! You lazy little brat! Get up!" A sharp slap across the face brought me into consciousness with all the subtlety of a charging bull as Mother's other hand pulled me up out of my futon by my hair. Tears sprung into my eyes, and I opened my mouth to give an angry retort, but I was thrown to the ground with such force that it was all I could do to gasp out, "Mother…" 

"You're such a bad son! Always lazing about the house, never doing anything productive, sitting in that room all day! I wouldn't care if you were the God of the universe; you're just a little brat to me!"

I gathered myself proudly. "I am the head of this family," I stated calmly. "Now go to your room before I hurt you. Sayu!" I called to my favorite maid, "please take Mother away. She is hurting me."

Sayu shot Mother a venomous look before taking her firmly by the arm. "Ren-san," she began.

"Don't presume to lecture me! He may be the head of this family, but I pay your wages!" interrupted Mother. She allowed herself to be led away, but not before she shot me another glance. I glared at her, but she only favored me with her poisonous smile as she crossed the threshold into the hall. _One of these days_, I thought, _Mother will push me too far, and then I will kill her_. Perhaps I should have been punished for thinking such horrible thoughts, but I never was. Everyone else loved me, everyone but Mother. Mother would never love me.

"_You're unlovable, you whiny little brat."_

"_Get out of my room!" _

"_You little freak. You don't deserve to live." _

The worst, however, was _"The Jyuunishi don't really love you. They only come to you because they have to. You make them, you selfish little brat."_

The horrible words played through my mind at night when I tried to sleep, weaving their way through my dreams and into my nightmares. I was often ill, and although Hatori tried his best to make me better, he didn't know, no one knew, no one knew that I tried not to sleep at night for fear of the visions that haunted my subconscious. Every night, they turn away from me, walking away with cold indifference in their icy eyes, and I felt myself shrinking, falling into dark tresses of poisonous shadow, strangling in that long black hair.

"_You don't matter. You're just our little poster child, you stupid little boy. No one loves you."_

Her arms would wrap around me, her fingers crush my windpipe, and her lips whisper poisonous secrets into the dim corners of my mind. I would struggle uselessly, wrapped in the vice-like grip of her envy, and the dark hair would spiral down, down, down, taking me with it, until finally I was awake, thrashing uselessly, wrapped tight in my blankets as a cold sweat coated my skin. So it was every time I slept. That is, so it was until he came.

He was so tiny, so perfect. I loved him at first sight. I felt his peace with my entire being; his happy little giggles went straight to my soul. I could hardly believe that such a sweet little creature could exist in the world. I ruffled his soft grey hair.

"Yuki," I said, "you are so cute!"

He blinked his big violet eyes at me, his tiny brain processing what I had just said to him.

"Thank you, Akito-sama," he finally said in the sweetest voice imaginable. I threw my arms around him and looked up at his mother.

"Can I keep him?" I asked semi-jokingly.

"Of course!" she replied. "I'll bring his things up from our house right away!"

My eyes widened. I was so surprised that she gave him up so easily! I understood why no one really wanted me, but Yuki was so perfect. I was used to getting what I wanted, but it did seem a little strange that she did not even laugh at my joke, but immediately gave him to me. Strange it seemed, but I didn't worry about it for too long. I had a new best friend, and I immediately commenced with getting to know him.

Yuki loved me, too. He did. I remember when he used to run to me from the garden, throwing himself into my arms, sometimes so violently that we fell over in a heap.

"Akito-sama!" he would cry. "I love you so much!"

"I love you too, Yuki!" I would gasp under his weight.

He would smile so sweetly, take tea with me, and we would fall asleep together every night in one soft mass of sheets and blankets. The dreams never came near when I had Yuki with me.

One day, I was walking in the garden when Yuki ran up to me. "Look, Akito-sama!" he cried. I looked down at what he held in his hands: a yellow butterfly. "It likes nectar!"

I smiled. "Of course it does! That's what butterflies eat! Don't be silly, Yuki!"

Yuki glowed. "It's so pretty, so little! It looks so easy to hurt!"

"That's why you must protect it, Yuki," I laughed. "Father always said that nectar draws more butterflies than running after them." Yuki cocked his head, his big violet eyes revealing the motion of the little gears in his head.

"Akito-sama!" he said suddenly, "I know what you are! You're the nectar, and I'm the butterfly! I run to you because you give me lots of love!"

I stopped short in my thoughts, stunned by the beauty, the innocence, the wonder of what Yuki had just said. No one had ever said anything like that to me before. Even with the other Jyuunishi, it was always, "As you wish, Akito-sama. Thank you, Akito-sama. Of course I love you, Akito-sama." It was never real, never spontaneous, and _never_ warm. My eyes, unbidden, filled with tears.

"I'm sorry, Akito-sama." Yuki looked up anxiously at me. "You can be a jelly roll, and I can be hungry child, if you like that better."

"Oh, no," I quickly reassured him, "it wasn't anything you said. It was just—" Words failed me; I pulled him into my arms and cried stormily.

TBC…

* * *

Me: I worked very hard on this chapter, so I hope it shows. However, I can't know if it's any good if you don't REVIEW! I feel like I don't exist when people don't review! It makes me sad! Seriously, it won't hurt you to push the little blue button and write me a line! 

Akito: At least, not as much as I _will_ hurt you if you don't! Author-chan won't stop whining about it, so shut her up!

Me: Akito-san, you will not be harming anyone, no matter how much you want to. I don't have the money for a lawyer, and in America _they do sue_!!! Over _everything_! So don't do that. Nonetheless, my sweet readers, please REVIEW!!!


	3. Chapter 2: Shigure

Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket or any of the characters and likenesses thereof. This is a fan-made work created purely for entertainment, and I am not in any way affiliated with the author or publishers. In other words: It's not mine! I'm just having fun with it!

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Mew Mai, my first reviewer EVER!! (Tears of joy!)

Also, just in case someone cares, Akito has pneumonia. Furthermore, Hatori is not yet a doctor, but he's still got the level head of the group. Thus, _he_ thinks to bring the oxygen. _Also_, Yuki is NOT implying anything yaoi-ish between Akito and Shigure; he simply saw what he saw and misinterpreted it as parental affection (for those of you new to the Akito-is-a-girl revelation, Yuki does not know about it). Come on! He's just a little kid! Get your minds out of the gutter!

Akito: Will you quit rambling and get on with it?

Me: Whatever you say, Akito-san.

Akito: Don't mock me!!

Me: What, I can't say _anything_ without its having some kind of double meaning?

Akito: You never do... in conversation with me, anyway.

Me: Good point... Well, on with the show!

* * *

A single ray of light filtered through the window onto the floor, barely serving to illuminate my room in any way. My heart beat hard in my chest, and my breathing was so labored that I could hardly see for the effort it required. Once in a while, a deep, chesty cough ejected great globs of bloody mucous into the white cloth my hand, which was soaked in hours of slime. Yuki was off somewhere with the maids, who would not allow me to have him with me for fear of contagion. There was no one there, no one there, no one there… even the bonds of the Jyuunishi seemed cold and distant today. Hours passed, and my loneliness grew more tangible with each passing second. For the first time, I wondered what would happen to my Jyuunishi if I were to die. Vague ideas, terrible but formless, swirled around my head, closing in on me like the dark tresses of a nightmare… I screamed, but the mucous in my throat slid into my vocal chords and I coughed futilely, suffocating in my own disgusting filth. I thrashed around uselessly, but I could feel my lungs filling with liquid… I closed my eyes and felt my consciousness slipping away like river water…

I vaguely heard running, and, suddenly, someone grasped my arms so tightly that I would have cried out in pain if I had not been suffocating. I was roughly pulled to a sitting position, leaned over and struck repeatedly on the back. The racking coughs built up again, but there was too much mucous to keep away forever; reddened slime covered the front of my kimono, but still I was drowning. I swayed again, and the person laid me down and covered my lips with his own, forcing air into my inundated lungs while continuing to pull me over and hit my back from time to time.

"HATORI!!" Shigure screamed intermittently. "HATORI!!"

There were more sounds of running, and I heard Sayu scream when she saw me.

"Calm down, Shigure-san. I brought the oxygen tank." Hatori's cool voice had an instant effect; the frantic resuscitation efforts stopped, and I lay in Shigure's arms while Hatori covered my mouth and nose with an oxygen mask. Soft, sweet air poured into my lungs, and I sighed softly.

"Who was supposed to be watching him!?" Shigure demanded angrily. "He almost died! If I hadn't found him…" Shigure's voice died, and he began to sob.

"He—seemed fine at the time…" Sayu's voice broke. "Ren-san said—"

"So the truth comes out," said Hatori disgustedly. "You would have let him drown just to satisfy your impossible grudge?"

Mother's smirk sounded even through her voice. "Why not? He's a useless little—"

"Get out." Hatori's voice was venomous.

"Of course, 'Tori-san. The doctor must see to his patient." Mother's footsteps died away. I tried to open my eyes, but I only got a brief sight of Shigure's worried face before I slipped away into unconsciousness.

I woke up to a different sound. "Akito-sama? Akito-sama? Please wake up! Don't die!" I slowly opened my eyes to see Yuki's anxious little face hovering over mine.

"Don't be silly!" I snapped, but I quickly repented when I saw Yuki's expression. "I just got sick, that's all," I said more gently. "Don't worry about it, sweetie." There was a brief pause.

"Shigure said you almost died… I don't want you to die!" wailed Yuki.

My temper got the better of me. "Nobody's dying! NOBODY! SHUT UP!!" I yelled.

"Okay," said Yuki in a small voice.

"Never mind that," I said, angry with myself for yelling at him. "Come here." I opened my arms, and the tiny child snuggled close to me.

"Aw… Akito's a mommy! How cute! Akito is a mommy, Akito is a mommy!" Ayame's voice suddenly yelled out in a sing-song voice.

"Hatori! Get that idiot out of here!" I called, turning fiery red. _Is this how a real mother feels?_ I wondered. _If it is, Ren-san is not my mother. I think I want to be a mother someday..._

"Akito-sama," Yuki said a little later, "I'm not the only one who loves you."

"Oh?" I asked, mildly interested.

"Oh, yes," Yuki continued. "Hatori-san, Ayame-san, Shigure-san… they all love you, but you know what?"

"What?" I was beginning to get a little sleepy, so I hoped he would get to the point soon.

"Shigure-san _really_ cares about you." Yuki's little eyes sparkled.

"Stop teasing me," I whined. "I want to sleep."

"But it's true!" Yuki exclaimed, all traces of laughter gone. "I saw the way he held you when you were choking. It looked a little like one of those movies he likes so much."

My eyes widened with shock. "Really?" I asked.

"Uh-huh," Yuki said, nodding solemnly.

"I don't believe that," I decided.

"Why not? Do you think I lie to you?" Yuki looked hurt.

"No, but…you must be mistaken! He's too old to care about a silly little _boy_ like me!"

"Of course he isn't! He looked just like he could be your daddy!"

A blank stare took possession of my face. _My daddy?_ I wasn't sure Yuki quite understood what he was trying to tell me… I decided to end the conversation.

"I think you're wrong," I said.

"Why don't you ask him about it?" Yuki asked.

"I… don't want to," I said.

"Why not? Don't be scared. You need a daddy as much as anyone else!"

Akira flashed into my mind. His arms, his heartbeat, the smell of jelly rolls on his breath…

"I already have a father!" I snapped. "I don't need another one! Anyway, Yuki, I don't think he…" I suddenly remembered why I couldn't explain any further. _Mother would kill me for real if I did…_ "You know what? Forget about it," I said.

"But—"

I cut Yuki off.

"Yuki, I'm tired, and this conversation is inane. Go to sleep."

"Sweet dreams, Akito-sama."

Try as I might, "sweet dreams" never came that night.

TBC…

* * *

See? See? Reviewing is good! GOOD! Reviews make me feel like I exist! Please, do like Mew Mai! You'll be my hero!

Akito: And if you don't, I'll--

Me: What did I tell you about saying things like that?

Akito: Never mind.


	4. Chapter 3: Hatsuharu

Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket or any of the characters and likenesses thereof. This is a fan-made work created purely for entertainment, and I am not in any way affiliated with the author or publishers. In other words: It's not mine! I'm just having fun with it!

A/N: I do not own the manga to refer to, so the quotes from the AkiGure childhood scene may not be quite exact... forgive me.

Akito: Yes, Author-chan is... (evil grin) rather poor...

Me: I think the readers can infer that without your blatantly pointing it out, Akito-san.

Akito: (smirks) Are you uncomfortable discussing this, Author-chan?

Me: It's not that, but _please_ let _me_ do the talking when it comes to my own personal finances! Never mind all that, on with the show!

* * *

As dawn stole over the horizon, its first beams softly illuminating the white paper walls of my room, I slipped Yuki's arms from around my neck and crept from the futon. I softly made my way out into the garden, the grass soft under my bare feet. The air was clear and pure; the dew had just begun to burn off, and a hazy mist hung over the fish pond where I had nearly drowned so long ago. The yellow butterfly flitted over the water, and I watched it fly about. It suddenly turned, a sudden purpose now in its tiny wing beats.

I turned with it, and suddenly noticed that I was not alone. Shigure sat on the cool porch, his eyes closed as though dozing, although I could see his expression change as he heard my tiny footsteps approaching. The butterfly flitted about him for a moment before finally alighting on his head. Its antennae waved about in a tiny breeze.

"Hello, Akito," he said softly without opening his eyes. I was amazed. For the first time, I wondered where he had gotten his amazing senses. It was almost as if he could _smell_ who it was that was approaching.

I didn't reply; I could think of nothing to say in light of Yuki's inadvertent warning about his possible feelings for me. Perhaps I _was_, as I had told Yuki in confusion, too young to get such attention from Shigure… but Yuki was right about one thing: I would never know unless I asked him. I took a deep breath.

"Shigure," I asked in a small voice, "do you love me?"

"Akito-sama, what's this about?" he asked in a patient voice. "Are you just going to walk around and ask everybody that today?"

"No," I said, determined to get an answer. "Well, do you?"

Shigure opened his eyes and looked at me with such a strange expression on his face that I wasn't sure whether to be pleased or afraid. He got up, walked over to a tsubaki tree, and plucked one of its large blossoms. He turned to me, pressing it into my hand.

"Yes, Akito-sama," he sighed gently. "I love you more than I have ever loved anyone else. Every day, you are all that I think of all the time. That is the absolute truth."

I stared at him, wide-eyed. "Do you mean you love me like a—" Shigure leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. My eyes went wide. He drew back and smiled at me.

"I think you're smart enough to figure that out for yourself." With that, he turned and walked away, and I stared after him, dumbstruck, until Yuki's voice called out to me:

"Akito-sama, wouldn't you like some breakfast?" I sighed and went indoors, still clutching the tsubaki blossom.

"Guess what, Akito-sama?" Yuki asked brightly over his rice.

"What?" I asked without much interest.

"I made a new friend!"

I jumped visibly. "WHAT?"

"His name is Hatsuharu! He started yelling at me earlier, but then we started talking and I really like him! He likes karate just like me!"

I was flabbergasted. It had never even occurred to me that Yuki would ever have another friend besides me. I knew who Hatsuharu was; I saw him every year at the New Year's banquet; however, I had never really spoken to him. I turned red, and suddenly I knew what I felt: I didn't want Yuki with this Hatsuharu person. I wanted him with me, always with me! I wouldn't let him leave me! He mustn't leave me!

"You mustn't speak to this person again," I said in an imperious tone. "He's likely a bad influence."

"Oh, no," protested Yuki, "Haru-kun is very nice."

"No, he isn't," I growled.

"I'm sorry, Akito-sama, but you don't know him yet. He's very nice! Please let me play with him!" Yuki's violet eyes filled with tears.

I hesitated.

"Please? You never play with me."

I hesitated some more.

"Please?" Yuki's voice was now a choked whisper. His baby face looked so sad… I heisted a moment more and then came to a decision.

"Never mind all that," I said in a fake careless voice. "You may play with Hatsuharu as much as you like."

"Yay!" Yuki's jubilant cries rang through the house as he bolted away in search of his new best friend, leaving me alone at the table.

New best friend? Alone? My mother's vicious words came back into my mind.

"_The Jyuunishi don't really love you. They only come to you because they have to. You make them, you selfish little brat. No one loves you. They'll move on, and you'll be alone… always alone… forever alone… and no one will care when you die."_

My heart raced, but I breathed deeply, forcing myself to think about Yuki and Shigure. Surely this Hatsuharu could never replace me… could he?

I wandered to the garden, where I could faintly hear Yuki's happy cries as he played tag or some such silly game with _his new best friend_. I lay down on the porch and was soon asleep.

Some time later, I woke up screaming.

TBC…

* * *

A/N: Forgive me for the cliffhanger, but I decided that it was time to get the plot moving forward a little faster than just cute fluffiness could take it. Don't get me wrong; I love fluff, but I think it's time to turn on a little tears and angst. YAY!

BTW, I still like reviews. I tend to update once I get one, so the sooner someone reviews, the sooner I will be inspired to update... just REVIEW ALREADY!


	5. Chapter 4: Kureno

Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket or any of the characters and likenesses thereof. This is a fan-made work created purely for entertainment, and I am not in any way affiliated with the author or publishers. In other words: It's not mine! I'm just having fun with it!

A/N: Gomen nasai! I know it's been well over three weeks... No, I didn't die... my access was down, and even now I'm not on my own computer... I'M SO SORRY!! I AM NOT WORTHY TO HAVE SUCH WONDERFUL READERS!! I'M SORRY!!

Akito: Someone's been spending too much time with Ritsu...

Me: Well, Ritsu's nicer than you... at least _he_ bothers to apologize.

Akito: Author-chan obviously needs help.

Me: What's that supposed to mean?

Akito: She prefers the imbecilic company of that silly gender-confused monkey to me? Obviously something is lacking!

Me: You are so full of yourself.

Akito: ... (twitches)

Me: ... Let's move on... to the story!

* * *

I gasped for breath, the screams echoing around my ears as though they came from someone else. Inside me, a huge chunk seemed to have been ripped out of my very being; I felt a flash of loneliness, and then nothing... but it was the nothing that terrified me more than anything else. I reached out, feeling along the blood bond for the person who was causing me all this pain... and found nothing... and that was why I screamed.

The quiet of the gardens continued uninterrupted around me, and I was no longer sure that I was part of the world. _Is this how the dead feel?_ I wondered. _If so, then I know why they haunt us... to feel something they don't remember but miss so terribly the pain makes them wish to cease existence._ No one came to me, despite my hysterical cries... my Jyuunishi... did not come to me. _Perhaps my fear makes them afraid_, I thought, trying to reassure myself as my shrieks dissolved into tiny sobs. My breath, stolen by this unrecognizable loss, began to return to me in ragged gasps... when Kureno walked around the corner and stood before me; immediately, I knew who I was missing.

"Akito-sama?" he asked gently.

It was strange, coming face to face with what had been stolen from me, almost as if I had never owned him at all, and yet he looked at me with recognition; recognition, but not familiarity. I had never paid much attention to Kureno; I had never repaid the small courtesies he always showed me whenever we were together, always distracted by the Trio's silly antics. I had known him inside out... and yet never known him at all. How could a face be so familiar and yet so strange? How could kind eyes be so distant? I had not felt him coming... the bond was... gone; gone, as if it had never been, and only I knew better. Even he gave no sign of fear, of realizing something was wrong... he just looked at me... looked at me with such kind, distant eyes... I burst into tears. He was mine... mine! No one else would have him. I could not let him leave me... he could not leave me... they could not leave me!

_"They only come to you because they have to." _

Kureno no longer had to; I could not make him... I nearly screamed aloud. No one could know about this... what if they found out? What if they could leave, too?

_"They'll move on, and you'll be alone, always alone, forever alone, and no one will care when you die."_

"No..." I whispered, tears still slipping from between my lids.

"What, Akito-sama?" Kureno asked, looking a little bewildered.

"N-no!" I choked out, swallowing teardrops in an effort to breathe. "No! I won't let you! You can't! Don't look at me; don't look at me with such distant eyes!" I grabbed him by the front of his shirt. He looked frightened now, but I babbled on and on. "Don't leave me all alone! Don't go away! Stay here with me forever! Never leave me! Don't leave me! Don't leave me... don't leave me... please... don't leave me all alone... all alone forever... don't leave me... don't leave me!" I gazed up at him, my vision blurring with the tears that flowed down my cheeks. Something in his gaze shifted, changed, softened... and settled into a kind smile. He pulled me close, pressing my face against his chest, and I breathed in the soft scent of flowery bath soap.

"How could I leave you? You are the sweetest little g—child I have ever seen, and you need me. I will always be, always be here for you… for as long as you need me."

I quit crying and sniffled a little. "F-forever?" I asked, looking up into his eyes.

_"T__hey'll move on, and you'll be alone…"_

Kureno looked straight into my eyes, all traces of a smile gone. "Forever, Akito-sama," he vowed. "Forever. I will never leave you. Never."

I smiled, and the glassy tears broke from my eyes in relief, scattering across my face. "Thank you, Kureno," I sighed. Kureno sat down, pulling me into his lap, and we sat together on the porch for a long time, lost in each other's mysteries, lost in the silence.

"Akito-sama!" called Yuki.

I looked up, rubbing away the last traces of my fear and tears. "Yes, Yuki-kun?" I asked, the term of endearment coming easily now that I was calm.

"Come play with me and Hatsuharu, Akito-sama! Please?" Yuki begged, stretching out his arms invitingly.

"Play?" I asked. I was not quite sure of what he wanted me to do; I only hoped it was not anything too awkward…

"We're playing tag! I'm it!" Yuki grinned widely, eyes sparkling with mischief. I stood, waiting for him to do something. Hatsuharu ran past, laughing, and Yuki chased him. I continued to watch; I was intrigued by the delicate intricacies of their interactions… they had no motive other than to enjoy themselves. What an interesting concept. I could not recall ever having done anything just for fun.

"Akito-sama, you're not doing it right!" Yuki's voice, impatient with my ignorance, broke into my thoughts.

"What?" I asked.

"You have to run!"

"Why?" I asked. "Is there a fire?"

"No, silly," giggled Yuki. "I'm trying to catch you!"

"Oh—" I began, but Yuki barreled into me, cutting me off.

"Gotcha!" he screamed much too loudly. I rubbed my ears. "Now you're it!" I got up and ran at him, but he easily jumped out of my way and I caught Hatsuharu by the ear as he tried that brush-past-you stunt on me.

"Ow!" he cried, struggling to get away from me.

"Got you," I exulted quietly. I then got up and ran away as fast as I could. I was running, running… and falling… and face down in the pond looking at a golden koi.

"Akito-sama!" Yuki and Hatsuharu shouted, running to help me out of the pool.

"No, no, let me go!" I protested, struggling out of their anxious grasps. "I can stand up on my own." I stood with effort, grabbing upwards at the branches of a tsubaki tree.

"Hello?" a tiny voice queried, and I glanced up into the tree's foliage to look straight into the eyes of yet another small child.

TBC…

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A/N: I still like reviews! They really do help me update faster! In fact, if it wasn't for you wonderful people, I might never have had the motivation to finish this little tale... Yay you! (In other words... click the little blue button and send me a line!)


	6. Chapter 5: Kyo

Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket or any of the characters and likenesses thereof. This is a fan-made work created purely for entertainment, and I am not in any way affiliated with the author or publishers. In other words: It's not mine! I'm just having fun with it!

A/N: I am neither suicidal nor nearly as negative as the voice of this story, but come on, this IS Akito we're talking about; I am aiming for a certain amount of authenticity in the way she views the world. Yes, I am aware that this author's note is very similar to the one I put in the prologue; however, I though it might be a good idea to reiterate this in view of this chapter's content. Also, there's a little blood in this one, but I think it's done tastefully. Let's just say that this is the chapter in which this story earns its rating.

Me: Anyway, thank you all for reading this--

Akito: Piece of --.

Me: We don't talk like that in this Author's Note, chapter, or story. I worked hard on this chapter, and it's even longer than usual!

Akito: Whatever. At least I only have to put up with you for the epilogue after this.

Me: You weren't supposed to tell the readers that!

Akito: (sticks tongue out)

Me: Akito is OOC right now... let's go to the story!

* * *

"Who are you?" I asked, a little rudely. After all, there was a strange child in my garden. The little boy blinked his big orange eyes slowly, absorbing my tone. An angry shine came into the depths of his soul-windows.

"Who are _you_, the king of the universe?" he shot back. "Stupid!"

I was sopping wet. Rivers of mud made tracks through my beautiful kimono and algae infiltrated my hair. I was exhausted from running, and my heart was pounding so hard I thought it might burst from my chest. I was still recovering from the strong feelings of jealousy Yuki's new friend Hatsuharu evoked. I was fully in the throes of the feelings of embarrassment falling in the pond had produced. On top of that, some rude little kid just appeared out of the tsubaki tree and called me stupid! STUPID!! I reached up into the tree and pulled him down by the front of his shirt. He landed with a thud.

"What's wrong with you? You could have broken my leg!" he screamed as soon as his surprised expression faded into more anger.

"What's wrong with _you_, you ugly, stupid, rude, unlovable, selfish little brat?!" I yelled right back at him, borrowing some adjectives from my mother. "I am Akito!"

"So what?" he challenged, folding his little arms in a way that incongruously reminded me of the way my father used to look when I had done something wrong. The image sent a bolt of pain through my heart, and I slapped the brat to the ground before I knew what I had done. He looked upward at me tearlessly, a rebellious glint in his eyes.

"What are you going to do?" he asked. "Kill me?" I only stared at him, frozen in indecision. He smirked at me, sitting up slowly. "So _you're_ the head of this family. I don't like you."

"Be nice to Akito-sama," my little Yuki cried, running into my arms. Hatsuharu stared at the scene in front of him, apparently afraid to say anything more.

"Akito-_sama_?" Kyo asked incredulously. "He's not the lord of anything except _stupid_!"

"But—" Kyo interrupted Yuki.

"Nobody likes you." He turned to Yuki and Hatsuharu. "Even _you guys_ don't like him! You're just afraid to say so!" He turned and looked straight into my eyes. "You're just Stupid-sama and his horde of frightened sissies! Don't you know why no one ever visits you anyway? No one wants to see you, and I can see why!"

"_The Jyuunishi don't really love you. They only come to you because they have to. You make them, you selfish little brat."_

"My mommy says you're the only person she hates more than me!"

"_You're unlovable."_

"I'm so glad I don't live with you!"

"_Get out of my room!"_

"That's why I never come to New Year's!"

"_No one loves you."_

"Mommy was right about you."

_Mommy was right about you… Mommy was right about you... Mommy was right… Mommy was right… Mommy was right… _She_ was right…always right…_

I turned and ran into the house as fast as my legs could carry me.

* * *

I huddled in the dark of my closet, clutching my knees as I rocked back and forth. Thoughts and emotions raced through me like horses… horses. I heard them calling me, but I did not come out. "_I just might never come out_," I thought. Hours passed, each second heaving slowly by, groaning under its invisible burden. I pitied the seconds.

My door opened slowly… and I was yanked roughly out of my sanctuary by a perfectly manicured hand… a flawless hand… a merciless hand.

"What are you doing in here, my lazy, ugly, worthless son?" My mother spat, her words enflaming me like venom in an already pulsating wound. I opened my mouth to say something ugly, but she beat me to the punch.

"I take it little Kyo-kun told you what I've been telling you your whole life. You are a poor, stupid little boy. No one loves you. No one."

"But Yuki—" I tried to object, but Mother cut me off.

"Yuki-kun," she said slowly, punctuating her words by waving her slender finger in my face, "has been taught all his life to treat you as if he really loved you. No one can honestly love you in reality."

"But—"

"NO ONE WILL EVER CARE WHETHER YOU LIVE OR DIE!!" Mother screamed. "You are a curse and blight upon this family, and the only reason you are alive today, you little brat," she continued, "is that murder is illegal. You… you… ARE THE REASON EVERYONE IN THIS FAMILY IS SO MISERABLE!! NO ONE WILL EVER ADMIT IT, BUT THAT'S ALL YOU ARE—A BLIGHT, A PLAGUE, A WORTHLESS LITTLE—"

I screamed.

"WHY YOU LITTLE—" Mother ranted on, slapping me into the floor. I wriggled out from beneath her searching hands and fled.

* * *

Father had a sword collection… a beautiful one. I used to think he had every sword, knife and dagger ever made. Of course, that was stupid of me, but he was my world… how could the world not have everything?

It was to this room that I fled now. I ran straight to the largest rack and pulled down a tantō, pulling it fiercely out of its sheath. In its short, shining edge of death, honed to bone-parting sharpness, I saw my face, eyes burning with despair, cheeks streaked with tears I could not remember shedding. I hesitated, the weapon trembling in my hand.

"_NO ONE WILL EVER CARE WHETHER YOU LIVE OR DIE!!"_

I plunged the blade into my stomach. Pain erupted through my entire body, spreading on wings of fire into every extremity.

"_I run to you because you give me lots of love!"_

"Akito-sama!!" I heard Ayame shouting as if from a great distance. "'Tori-san! 'TORI-SAN!!"

"_They only come to you because they have to."_

I sliced the blade to the right, my flesh tearing silently as the fire of pain turned to burning lava, dripping onto the floor in a crimson tide with the tears I now let fall freely.

"_Akito-sama! I love you so much!"_

"AKITO-SAMA!!" Hatori screamed, but I could hardly hear him.

"_No one can honestly love you in reality." _

"AKITO!!" Shigure wailed, but I had passed beyond his grasp, beyond anyone's grasp, flying swiftly and silently away from my heartbreak, away from my mother, away from my pain… to a land where butterflies flitted freely.

TBC…

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A/N: No! This is not the end! How dare you suggest such a thing! I would never leave it like this! By the way, I'm sorry I haven't updated in so long, but life happens. Next up is the epilogue! Please review! It makes me feel loved! (Puppy-dog eyes)


	7. Epilogue: Akito

Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket or any of the characters and likenesses thereof. This is a fan-made work created purely for entertainment, and I am not in any way affiliated with the author or publishers. In other words: It's not mine! I'm just having fun with it!

A/N: Hey there! I didn't get any reviews for the last chapter...TT... but here's the epilogue anyway! I'm so proud! I finished my first fanfic! (Happy dance)

Akito: That's disturbing.

Me: Oh yeah? Well, at least it's the last time...

Akito: And then you'll leave me all alone?

Me: Yeah, but you'll have Shigure.

Akito: Don't go!

Me: Erm, we can still be friends...

Akito: Good. Now finish this stupid thing so that my misery can be over.

Me: Yes, ma'am!

* * *

Six Months Later

I stand in my room, my kimono smeared with fresh black paint. My world is full of darkness, and that is all there is. Why should my surroundings be any different?

My little Yuki cowers in the corner, terrified by my empty smile. The paint-brush drops from his hand onto the clean floor, splattering darkness across the boards. The idea fascinates me, but I know Mother will not be pleased. I stare deep into his eyes, and he immediately understands that he has an appointment with a small, dark room. Who knows how long I will keep him there this time? I rather enjoy the silence of an empty room sometimes, and my Kureno is here to take care of me.

I awoke several days after my seppuku attempt in a soft bed in a room so blindingly white that I shut my eyes once more and slept for days. Hatori is only a medical student, but he somehow knew exactly what to do, and his presence of mind saved my life. I do not know whether to thank him or break Mother's best vase into microscopic shards in his eye. I'm rather inclined to the latter.

Kureno is looking at me with such sad eyes. He must feel sorry for me. I hate it when people are sorry for me. I walk out of my room and into the hall. Sayu is coming down the hall, and she carefully steps around me, as if my very touch were terrifying. I suppose I am… ha ha ha…

I walk beyond Sayu and into the living room. Here, in the middle of the day, there is no one, but the very walls are haunted by my family's smiles and laughter. I do not belong here.

I wander back down the hall and onto the porch. I would sit, but the paint on my clothes is still damp. I suppose it does not matter, since Sayu would clean it up anyway, as well as my clothes if I would let her, but I do not care. There is not rest for me here either.

I wander outward aimlessly. The leaves are falling from the trees, the glory of their deaths outshining any beauty they ever had during their lives. The koi in their pond are silent, staring at me with big, glassy eyes as though my existence were a blight on the very world. They are stupid. I am Akito. How could my existence ever be a mistake?

I wander under the tsubaki tree. A slight movement, a flash of color catches my eye: a butterfly. I have no nectar, but I instinctually freeze anyway. The butterfly flits across my field of vision, every stroke of its wings a work of art. I sigh, and I am about to turn to go inside, when it flits back in, landing in my palm. My breath stills, and the awe I once felt in this same garden when I was five, with my beloved father standing next to me, gently cupping my hands in his to keep them from moving, returns to me now. The joints in its legs, the veins in its wings, the tiny proboscis that ever so tentatively reached out into the small pool I held in my palm—every little detail stands out in my mind with perfect clarity. Every curse and insult my mother flings at me every day, the pitying glances of my Kureno and the Mabudachi, every lonely day spent with a child who only lived with me, loved me, cared about me because his mommy said so—every heartbreaking day and night since the day my father flitted away from me forever—all flows before me in an unstoppable parade of misery, freezing into an eternal tableau, like the rivers of autumn turning to hard, cold, merciless ice, and I sigh softly, but not with the beauty of it all. I gaze at the butterfly for moments that seem like hours, days and years, moving through the lens of time to the greater plane of eternity, and my fingers jerk closed, crushing the brightly-colored wings. I massage the dying butterfly ever so gently into my hand, crushing it, staining it with its own juices, and as it flutters ever so weakly in the throes of death, I cease to kill it and watch without expression as it escapes my cruel grasp and flies away to a new world. I know its pain; it is my pain, it was Father's pain, and it is the pain that, by the time I am through with him, my sweet, sycophantic little Yuki will also know so well.

THE END

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A/N: Well, there you have it. I'm really proud of myself, because this is the first time I've ever written and actually published a complete story, period!

If you like my writing, please look at my profile (or put me on author alert, ). I'm currently writing a Fullmetal Alchemist story that has over a thousand hits, and I'm planning to write some oneshots as well.

Sayonara! See you soon!


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